


They took my love by the rosebush

by LarrysDiamonds



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Death, Hurt, Kissing, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:20:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarrysDiamonds/pseuds/LarrysDiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry are in love, but Louis notices Harry acting strange lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They took my love by the rosebush

Harry used to wait up for me until I got home from work. He’d lay on the couch, barely awake, eyes half closed, just waiting. I’d walk in the door and his face would light up. His dimples would deepen into those massive holes that I loved so much. His eyes would twinkle, and that cheeky grin of his would slowly spread over his face. “Hello, Beautiful,” he’d say in his raspy voice. I’d walk over to the couch and lay on top of him-- kiss his forehead, then his nose, and finally his amazing pink lips. We’d lay there for a while, just kissing and holding each other, and nothing in the whole world could have made me happier.

 

Things changed, though. I’d come home from work and find him in our bed-- fully clothed, hair matted, and the smell of alcohol coming from those beautiful pink lips of his that drove me absolutely crazy. Those same lips that kissed me long into the night, so sweetly and passionately. After a while I’d be lucky to a get peck on the cheek from him, no passion came from those lips anymore. He was always tired, he never wanted to do anything with me anymore. No matter how hard I tried to drag him out of bed, he refused to move.

 

Some days I’d come home to find him in the bathroom, curled up in a ball on the floor. The first time it happened I cried for hours. I saw the blades, I saw the blood, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe that this was my Harry. My Harry who always dragged me out to the park to make crowns out of flowers that he placed so carefully on my head. My Harry who who grabbed me by the waist and danced with me, even when there was no music. My Harry who woke me up in the middle of the night, just to pull me closer into his warm body and whisper in my ear how much he loved me, and every time I’d tell him “I love you more.”

 

But that Harry had been gone for a long time.

 

I’d sit with him on the bathroom floor; tears in my eyes, singing happy songs in a hushed voice to try to make myself believe that everything was ok, that this was the same boy I fell in love with, the boy with the curly hair and that cheeky grin. I tried so hard to look past the scars and empty bottles that littered the kitchen counters. I shoved all the bad thoughts into the back of my mind, promising myself never to look there. And I didn’t, not for awhile at least.

 

Things got worse. Harry got angry a lot-- at me, at himself, at anything really. He started punching the walls, leaving holes in a few places that I quickly covered with drawings and paintings he’d done years before.

 

There was only one time when he ever hit me. I’d spilled some tea on the carpet and he’d just gone off. “You stupid fucking idiot! How could you be so fucking clumsy?!” He hit me up the side of my head; not too hard, but hard enough. I was shocked, I just sat there looking at him, tears forming in the back of my eyes. I saw the pain in his eyes, too. He grabbed his jacket and ran out of the house. I sat on the couch and cried myself to sleep. The punch had hurt, but honestly, it was the words that hurt more than any punch he could have thrown at me.

 

By now I didn’t know what to do. I tried talking to Harry, asking if he was alright, if he wanted to go see a doctor, but all i got in response was a cold look followed by “I’m fine.”

 

One day I came home and I could just feel that something was wrong. I don’t know what it was, but I just knew that something had happened. I yelled his name and got no response. I ran through the house screaming his name and crying. I finally found him out in the garden, lying in the rosebush we had planted together when we bought the house a few years before. I saw the empty bottle of pills lying next to him. I picked him up screaming and crying, saying over and over again, “Baby, it’s ok, Harry, come back to me, you’re alright baby, you’re fine, just fine...”

 

By the time the ambulance came I knew he was gone. I just sat in the rosebush, singing happy songs through my sobs. It must have been half an hour later when I found the note.

 

  
_Dear Louis,_   
_I can’t do it anymore. I can’t hide who I am like this anymore... I can’t hide us anymore._   
_I know it’s selfish of me to leave without telling you, but I wouldn’t be able to say this to your face, I couldn’t take it._   
_I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted the past few months. I want you to know I didn’t mean anything I said, and I am so, so sorry for hitting you._   
_I just want you to know that I love you more than anything in the entire world, Lou._   
_I wish I could have seen your beautiful face one last time, say goodbye properly...but I guess this will have to do._   


_I love you to the moon and back, Louis._

_Harry .xx_

 

I can’t tell you how many times I read that note. It was the only thing I had left of the boy I loved so much. The boy that I couldn’t live without.

 

I can’t live without him anymore, I just can’t. I haven’t left our bed since the day he left me. I’m in this house that we shared our lives in, and I have no one to share it with. I can’t do it anymore.

 

So this is my goodbye. I felt that I needed to tell my, well, our story, before I left. I don’t know if anyone will find this, but at least our story’s out there.

 

You’ll find me by the rosebush, where they took my love away. I’m gonna go find him, I need to go find him, and then we can be happy together. We can be ourselves together, and we won’t have to hide anymore. We’ll sing happy songs, but for real this time. He’ll be that same cheeky, curly boy I fell in love with all those years ago, and everything will be fine, just fine.

 

\- Louis


End file.
